The Science of Pixie Dust
by Huladancer1425
Summary: It's been a year since Sherlock left, so why does John continue to have a feeling that there's still more to his tale? First FanFic! Please R
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

It was late. Nobody in their right mind should be up at this hour. It was one in the bloody morning after all, so why was a light still on in the living room of 221B Baker Street? Sherlock was dead, he had been so for about a year now, and the only one there was John; who currently was lying on the sofa staring up at the ceiling with his fingertips to his lips, just like Sherlock would have done if he was thinking extremely hard about a case.

_It's just a fairy tale… _

Those few words kept floating through John's psyche, no matter how much he tried to forget them. They always seemed to be lurking in the dark recesses of his mind and would come out of hiding just when John needed sleep. Sherlock would never let him slow down, even after he was gone.

Sherlock had told Molly everything before he went to the roof, and Molly, in turn, told John about a week after Sherlock died. She couldn't keep it from John, even though she swore to Sherlock that she would. She had to tell John about how Jim had come to the apartment after he was found innocent and had talked with Sherlock about how the final problem was just a fairy tale. She also explained to John about the terrifying cab ride that Sherlock took in which Moriarty told him a story about King Arthur and Sir Boast-a-lot.

_Every fairy tale needs a good villain._

No question about who that was. Moriarty was a total evil bastard; he was the one who drove Sherlock to suicide in the first place. But what fairy tale had he been referring to? Sherlock must have thought that it was just the legends of King Arthur and the fairy-tale that he heard in the taxi cab, but John thought that it was more. For the past few months John had been going through all of the Brothers Grimm tales to find one that could relate to the final days of Sherlock's life, and had come up with nothing besides Hansel and Grettle; but that story only pertained to that one case with the kidnapped children. He could almost see the smirk that would be on Sherlock's face at the many fruitless hours he had spent at the library trying to find the story. He would already know the answer and would just sit back and see how long it would take for John to figure it out. Grumbling, John sat up and decided to turn on the TV. Why, he didn't know, he just wanted to do anything but sleep. When he slept he would see Sherlock falling again and again, until he woke up screaming and covered in sweat. _No, _he thought, I _certainly don't need another night of that._ Flipping through all of the paid programming he came across an animated show that he recognized from his childhood.

"Second star to the right and straight on till morning! Come on now, follow me!" A boy in green with red hair was saying as he soared out of a window with three laughing and whooping children following him. They flew over the rooftops of London to a chorus of people singing about how you can fly. The children flew through the night and into the morning, where they landed on a cloud and saw the Jolly Rodger, Captain Hook's pirate ship, down below. John, getting bored, was about to change the channel when he realized with a start, that this was it. This was the story he was looking for!

Sherlock was Peter Pan. A boy who rejected all of society, who refused to grow up; who found lost boys and brought them back to his magical world. And he most certainly could fly and crow. John has seen him yell triumphantly at solving a case and fly off a building. After all, falling is just flying, but with a more permanent destination.

The villain: Captain Hook. While Moriarty certainly had both of his hands, he was always setting out to destroy Pan at all costs.

Wendy had to be Molly. Jim had used her just like Hook used Wendy to get close to Pan. Also Molly was the only one to love Sherlock, even though he didn't quite realize it; just like Peter and Wendy.

John was… well what was he? He was a lost boy; a boy who Sherlock brought to Neverland and saved from growing up, saved from the terrors of his post-war, shell shocked mind. They would play games together, trying to solve crimes and Sherlock was always the hero, the main character, the leader.

That was the fairy tale! He had done it! But Peter Pan ends with Pan defeating Hook and sailing off in the Jolly Rodger to return Wendy and her brothers to London. Sherlock's story didn't end like that for Hook had defeated Pan. Was there more to it? Was there a sequel? John vaguely remembered seeing one when he was younger. Switching on the computer he quickly looked it up. _Return to Neverland_, John read on the screen. Clicking on the summary he read that Hook returned to London to kidnap Wendy, but instead got her daughter Jane, to lour Pan back to him to destroy him once and for all… Hook is going to kidnap Wendy…. That's the next move of the game… so Hook is still alive…

_Moriarty isn't dead and he's out to get Molly!_ John realized with a gasp. _But Pan's dead. How could he lour Pan to him if he's dead…. But what if he's not… what if he preformed the miracle I asked of him… what if he's not dead…. _ John didn't know what to do with this new thought. He switched off the computer and went back to the sofa. Sitting down he continued to watch the children fly around the screen until he drifted off to sleep.

Meanwhile Molly was sound asleep in her London flat, when suddenly her bedroom window flew open with a bang. Waking up, Molly was met with a silhouette she thought she would never see again. "Hello dear. Now, now, don't scream. I am very much alive and very much here. Now Sebastian, is that bag ready? … Good. Well, night Molly, see you when you wake up." With that Jim hit Molly over the head with a cricket bat, causing her to collapse unconscious on her bed.


	2. Chapter 2

**AN: Thank you so much to all who reviewed and followed! :D**

**As I should have said in the Chapter before this, don't own anything... BBC does... and I'm not them. Also, extra cookie points to those who know the slight cross over in this chapter!**

Chapter 2

John woke up with a start.

He had that terrible dream again about Sherlock falling, except this time he wasn't falling, he was flying. He jumped off the top of the hospital and flew over to John, "Come on John." He said taking his hand, "Let's go." And then John was lifted up into the air as he and Sherlock flew over the rooftops of London. It was wonderful until a voice came up from the city below asking him if he needed to lose a couple of pounds.

"What?" John said aloud, recalling his dream. He got up and stretched, when he heard that voice again asking about his weight. He looked around and then realized that the TV was still on. With a groan he fumbled for the remote and turned the TV off, then shuffled off into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. While he was waiting for the kettle to boil he began to think about this whole "Peter Pan Theory" as he was beginning to call it. Could Moriarty really kidnap Molly? John walked over to the phone and picked it up.

"What am I doing?" he said to the dial tone and hung up. "What am I going to say? 'Oh hi Molly just wanted to make sure that you weren't kidnapped by a dead man.' How stupid." He stomped back over to the stove and stood staring at the tea kettle, willing it to boil faster. "But what if I'm right?" John said aloud. He turned back to the phone, "I'll invite her out for lunch. It would be nice to chat with her." He reasoned as he dialed Molly's number. After a period of ringing and no answer at her flat, John slammed the phone back into the receiver. "Damn! She's not home!" he said as he turned back to the now whistling kettle. While he moved about fixing the tea he looked at the clock above the stove, "8:30… she could be at work!" He resolved, putting his tea cup down and phoned Bart's.

"St. Bart's Hospital. Martha Jones speaking, how may I help you?"

"Hi Martha, its Dr. John Watson. How are you?"

"Great John! How are you doing?"

"I'm holding up. Listen is Molly in yet?"

"No, I haven't seen her yet today. Strange though she's usually in by now huh? Did you try her flat?"

"Yeah, she didn't pick up."

"Huh, well do you have her mobile? I'll give you the number."

"Could you? Ah you're the best Martha."

"No problem! Say, if she does come in I'll have her call you alright?"

"Yeah, thanks."

After writing down Molly's mobile and calling it with no success, John sat down with his tea feeling fairly defeated. Meanwhile Molly was just waking up in a pure white room. She thought for a moment that she was at Bart's but realized that she wouldn't be tied to a chair if she was at work. Looking around her she located a table and two more chairs, as well as a door with a window next to it with the shade pulled down. All of a sudden a figure walked by casting a gray outline of a person with one arm raised; except instead of a hand there was a hook.


	3. Chapter 3

**AN: Still don't own anything... And did you figure out that I like cliff hangers yet?**

Chapter 3

The door flew open with a bang and James Moriarty walked in carrying his jacket on a coat hanger in his left hand. "Hello my dear. Have a nice nap?" He said as he closed the door behind him and hung the jacket on the knob. "Forgive the coat, but the closet up front was full. How have you been Molly dear? Long time no see." Moriarty said sitting down across from Molly.

Molly rolled her eyes, "You kidnap me in the middle of the night. Leave the world believing that you've been dead for about a year now, when obviously you are alive and well, and that Sherlock Holmes is a fraud. And yet you ask me how I am now that my world's been turned upside down again and I'm tied to a rather uncomfortable chair? Hum?"

Moriarty laughed, "Yes, well I suppose I did do that now didn't I dear? But if you're truly uncomfortable in that chair I will release you, but don't try to run. I assume you know enough about me that you would heed that warning." Molly was released and she immediately started pacing about the room, "Why am I here anyway Jim?" she finally asked. "Well my dear, you are here because I want you to be; as well as the fact that you are going to help me catch a Kraken." Jim stated simply as he resumed his seat .

"A Kraken?" Molly repeated with eyebrows raised.

"Yes. Metaphorically of course, but nevertheless, a Kraken. "

Just then a bell rang from some far off place, causing Jim to rise from his chair. "I must leave you here, perhaps I can arrange more suitable quarters seeing as you do not seem content in here. For the time being, make yourself comfortable. Till then my dear!" He whipped his coat off of the door knob with a flourish, blew Molly a kiss and exited. Molly groaned and sat down in the chair formerly occupied by Moriarty to ponder what this 'Kraken' could be.

In the meantime, John was digging out everything he could of Sherlock's old notes on how to track down mobiles in this city that was crawling with them. _Why do I bother?_ John thought for the millionth time, Sherlock's handwriting was illegible and was literally written in a code that only he could have read. John was at a loss as to how to rescue Molly. He had taken a cab over to her flat, only to find no answer to the bell and neighbors who hadn't seen her since yesterday. "Oh Sherlock, where are you when I need you?" John whispered as he gazed out the widow, wondering how the hell he was going to solve this case.


	4. Chapter 4

**AN: Don't own anything... and I certainly do not own the certain band mentioned in this chapter. Don't even like them but it was the first popular British band that popped into my head!**

Chapter 4

Jim walked in to a large office whose space was occupied mainly by a large mahogany desk. On the desk resided a computer with four monitors surrounding the person who occupied the fat, posh, office chair.

"You rang Seb?" Moriarty sighed as he pulled up an arm chair to the other side of the desk. "Yes I did," Seb stated as he reached over to open a drawer, and drew out a mobile phone. "It's John. Called seven times since 8:35 this morning and has texted more times than I can count. If I have to hear that damn One Direction song one more time to notify that a text has come in, I'm going to scream." Moriarty took the phone and laughed, "My dear Seb, you can crack the lock code on this phone in less than thirty seconds, and yet you can't turn the ring tone off? What are we to do with you?" This was met with an eye roll as Seb turned back behind his monitors. Jim opened Molly's messages and read:

[9:00] _Hi Molly, I got your number from Martha, hope you don't mind. I was wondering if you wanted to join me for lunch this afternoon. At the café we used to always go to after work? – JW _

[10:05] _Hey Molly, did you get my last text? What do you say about lunch at about 1 at that sandwich shop on the corner of Baker and Main? – JW_

[10:30] _Ok Molly, I can't take it anymore. I really need to talk- JW_

[10:45] _Molly. Seriously. You there? - JW_

[11:00] _Ok, so I came up with this theory last night that Sherlock is not dead…- JW_

[11:05} _He's not dead and you're in real danger if he isn't – JW_

[11:06] _He IS alive and you ARE in danger. - JW_

{11:17} _Molly I'm coming over to your flat. – JW_

[11:45} _Where are you? – JW_

[12:00] _please pick up your phone –JW_

[12:05]_ MOLLY! – JW_

"If I didn't know better I'd say he was in love." Jim said as he finished reading the texts, "But the bastard's smart. How did he figure out she's in danger?"

Seb shrugged from behind the monitors. "Don't know, and there's been no activity from Sherlock since two days ago. I've been coming up with dead ends for hours. You don't think he's contacted John do you?" Jim shook his head, "We would have known if he did. Should I respond to lover boy here? I'll say something like, 'Hey John. I'm really sorry for not picking up, but I misplaced my mobile and was at a friend's house in Kent for the weekend. If you still want to talk we could meet tomorrow at 6 at that restaurant on Fleet for dinner.'" Seb nodded in consent as Jim set out typing the message on the phone.

"There, all sent." Jim said rising from his seat a moment later, "I'm going to make reservations for tomorrow night. Perhaps our kraken needs more bait before we can catch him… Oh and see what you can do about getting Molly a better room, the whole 'insane asylum/ interrogation room white' isn't doing anything for her."

"Sure thing boss, I'll get right on it." Seb replied sarcastically to his monitors. Jim had just closed the door to the office when he heard Seb curse loudly as the sudden blasting of a One Direction song came radiating out from Molly's mobile.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

John's mobile rang loudly, causing him to tear his gaze away from the taxis fighting their way down Baker Street and stomp over to the desk where the buzzing device resided. John looked at the "You've got mail!" it scrolled across his screen excitedly. Expecting yet another note from his therapist, John begrudgingly unlocked the phone and opened his messages.

[12:15]_Hey John. I'm really sorry for not picking up, but I misplaced my mobile and was at a friend's house in Kent for the weekend. If you still want to talk we could meet tomorrow at 6 at that restaurant on Fleet for dinner. – Molly_

John almost dropped his mobile at the shock that Molly was alive and fine. He quickly hit the reply button and sent back:

[12:16] _Molly! Thank goodness! Tomorrow at 6 is perfect, see you there. – JW_

John sat down relieved. Now he could finally explain his theory to Molly and protect her if Moriarty tried anything. He was beginning to think that his "Peter Pan Theory" wasn't as crazy as he first thought, but now that Molly was found again, what if it was crazy? How long would it be until Moriarty came back? Or was he really dead? John groaned and buried his head in his hands, at a loss on this "Theory" of his. Elsewhere in London, Moriarty graced Molly with his presence once more.

"Hello my dear!" he said opening the door to the white walled room.

"Hi" Molly replied, not looking up at him.

"Oh come now, don't be like that! Here, I have something that will make you happier, a proposition actually." Molly looked up at this, "I will let you go, if you have dinner with me tomorrow night. I'll let you go home and pick out your best dress and everything. What do you say?"

"You'll let me go just like that? Honestly Jim, if all you wanted was a dinner date why didn't you just call? You had to put me through all this?" Molly scoffed.

Jim sighed, "I'm afraid I had to my dear, with the world thinking me dead. Besides, I wouldn't want to pop up at your door in broad daylight and have you scream your head off at the sight of a dead man and have the neighbors come running! Think of the headlines! No, it's easier this way, don't you think?"

"Easier for you" Molly sighed, "If it really means that much to you, do I have much of a choice?"

Jim smiled, "Aw thanks doll! I have reservations for dinner at 6 tomorrow night at that restaurant on Fleet. Oh and before I forget, I have arranged a more suitable room for you. If you'll please follow me."

Molly followed Jim out of the door and down a maze of hallways until finally they reached an ornately carved door that Moriarty opened with a flourish. "Voila, your room" Molly's jaw immediately dropped to the floor. The walls were light blue with a mural of an island on the far wall with a pirate ship and mermaids in every cove and outcrop. There was even an Indian campout on the mainland. A fluffy sea green carpet covered the floor and the room smelled of fresh sea air. The bed itself looked vaguely like a boat as did the rest of the beautiful wooden furniture. The ceiling was a dark navy blue with white stars that sparkled as you looked up at them.

"Jim, this is…. It's…. an improvement from the interrogation room." Molly stammered turning to him. Jim laughed, "I certainly hope so. I call this room 'Neverland'" Silence fell as they continued to gaze about the room. "Anyway," Jim said after a moment had passed, "I'll be back around seven to bring you your dinner. Till then my dear!" Molly didn't even bother responding as Jim exited the room. _Neverland_, _what a fitting name for this room_ she thought, _Neverland…_


	6. Chapter 6

**AN: This was inspired by a Masterpiece Classic that I saw. Also thanks to all who are reviewing! :)**

**Chapter 6**

John fidgeted at a table in the back of a very crowded restaurant on Fleet Street and checked his watch for the third time in the past fifty seconds. _6:05, she's late._ He thought with a frown. He could see the door through the dim lighting and the swarm of people. His head snapped up expectantly whenever the bell sounded to signal that a hungry patron had just entered the restaurant, but for the past ten minutes everyone in London but Molly had entered. _Where is she?_ He thought to the wine that was currently swirling around his glass.

Where she was, was in a van across the street from the bustling eatery getting wired up and wirelessly attached to ten different computers. Two for picture feed, three for audio, one for relaying instructions to her, and the other four, only Seb knew what they were calculating as letters and numbers scrolled past their screens. It was no surprise that she wasn't to be having dinner with Jim, but in a way was having dinner _for _Jim.

"There you are my dear, now before we send you off do you mind relaying what you are to do? Seb just wants to do one last audio check." Jim said putting a small device in Molly's ear.

She sighed, "I'm to go in and find John Watson who is already sitting in the back of the restaurant. Attempt to have a nice dinner with him and then afterwards somehow convince him to go back to my place where you'll be waiting. Or if he goes home, you'll know that and be there I'm sure."

"Exactly, are we all set Seb?" Seb nodded, his large headphones bobbing up and down with the movement of his head. "Alright my dear, enjoy your meal." Jim said opening the door to the van and Molly stepped out.

The bell over the door rang and John saw Molly in her favorite red cocktail dress step into the dim light of the restaurant. She fidgeted nervously with her bag as the hostess led her over to where John sat, but stopped suddenly and smiled as John rose to greet her.

"Molly! So good to see you!" John said pecking her on the cheek.

Molly smiled. "Nice to see you too. How you holding up?" she inquired as they sat down across from each other.

"I'm hanging in there…"

Molly raised her eyebrows, "I'd say that's a bit of an understatement considering the distress signals you were bombarding me with yesterday." Jim had informed her of John's text messages when he explained his _'To catch a Kraken, you need more bait'_ scheme.

"Yeah, well… listen, I've been thinking, and you're going to think I'm crazy and it's just my grief stricken, insane mind but just bear with me and you'll see it makes perfect sense." The words came pouring out of John. It was such a relief to talk to someone other than the skull that resided on his mantle about things like this and the buzz of the other conversations skillfully covered his insane thoughts as they came into reality. Molly agreed to hear him out and not to say anything until he was finished with his ranting and John took a breath.

"Well, last night I was-"

"Hi there! My name's Alex and I'm your waiter tonight. Can I interest you in any of tonight's specials?" A bouncy college aged girl interrupted John's confession, much to the annoyance of all involved in Molly and John's conversation. Molly however wasn't fazed as much as the men, as she smiled and had the waitress continue with her speech. They put their orders in for two of the fifteen dinner specials and the waitress waltzed away. John refilled their glasses with wine, took a sip from his and cleared his throat.

"Anyway as I was saying. A few nights ago I was up at some god awful hour, thinking about… you know who… and was just flipping channels when I found Peter Pan was on. You remember that movie right? Well anyway, I realized that that was the fairy tale that I've been looking for the past year! The fairy tale of Sh…. You know who…. Is Peter Pan! You're Wendy, I'm a lost boy… and well that doesn't really matter, but there is a sequel to _Peter Pan_ called _Return to Neverland_, and it starts out with Hook kidnapping Wendy, although Wendy's all grown up and he actually get her daughter Jane… anyway he gets Jane and uses her to lour Pan back to him. So if… you know… has preformed the task I asked of him, as I'm certain he has, the next move in the game is for Hook to get Wendy, which is you."

John stopped and looked at Molly expectantly.

Across the street, Jim was on the floor laughing so hard at the fact that John "…is still so in love with Sherlock that he can't even say his name?! And oh the bastards on to us! It's too much!" Seb simply rolled his eyes and turned the volume up on his headphones.

Molly however, turned pale, wine glass paused halfway to her lips. _Could I say that he's absolutely right? Jim made it seem that he had no idea that John was on to them…. The texts were just of some grief stricken mind…_ The wine glass finally reached its destination and returned to its place on the table. "And who would be Hook then if I was Wendy? I should know who to look out for if I'm going to get kidnapped." She said with a smile.

"Hook? Well isn't it obvious? He's-"John was interrupted once again as the young waitress returned with their dinners. After the first forkfuls were taken, John cleared his mouth with the wine and leaned towards Molly, "Hook's Moriarty." He whispered.

Molly just looked at him, opened her mouth to say something, thought better of it, touched her ear briefly and laughed. "Oh John, one could survive from falling, however a bullet to the brain is much harder to survive don't you think? But I'll keep my eyes peeled for him don't worry. Now, how's Ms. Hudson? I haven't seen her for _ages!_"

As the conversation changed Jim clicked on a red button and took his headset off. "Beautifully said sir" Seb stated as he turned the volume down on his headset, as he had no desire to hear about the new cat that occupied Ms. Hudson's garden. Jim smiled, "Thank you Seb. We should really hire Molly, she does her job well."

A good hour passed as Jim and Seb continued to monitor John and Molly, while the bugged diners were having a lovely time catching up from the last time they saw each other; never reaching the topic of conversation that drew them out to the active restaurant in the first place again.

At the end of the night, John and Molly stepped out into the cool night air laughing at some joke that John had just relayed. As the laughing subsided, Molly looked at John, touched her ear again and sighed, "Say John, if you really don't feel like going back to your place, you are more than welcome to come to mine. Who knows, it might help you sleep."

John looked at her in a slightly buzzed, baffled way, "Are you suggesting what I think you are, or are you seriously offering a peaceful night, undisturbed sleep? " Molly laughed again, "I mean a peaceful undisturbed sleep on my couch. I get the bed and you are to go nowhere near it."

It was John's turn to laugh, "Well then of course. I'd love to." As they set off in the direction of Molly's flat, a van started across the street from them with the drivers frantically trying to find the quickest route to said destination.


	7. Chapter 7

**AN: Don't own anything but the plot line... **

**Chapter 7**

John hailed a cab that quickly and easily transported the two of them across town to Molly's humble flat. As they pulled up to her front door, John leaned against the driver's seat to pay the tab as Molly stepped out onto the sidewalk. Immediately her eyes swept the street behind her and quickly found the damning white van parked in an ally. _Brilliant _she thought, _What am I getting myself into?_ She could only imagine the consequences that she would pay if she didn't follow Moriarty's instructions, but the urge to tell John that she would rather be at his place was too strong. It would certainly detain whatever Jim had in store for them for a bit as they scrambled to move it to Baker Street.

"John," she said turning to him, "I've changed my mind, why don't we go to your pla- ahh!" All of a sudden a piercing whistle sounded in her ear as Seb slammed down on a button in the van.

'Boss! She's trying to back out!' he yelled into his mike. Jim, who was currently trying to climb up the fire escape on the side of Molly's building, winced. "Seb, I can hear you fine without the screaming." Jim hissed "She won't back out now that you've murdered her ear drum. John's too much of a gentleman not to take her up to the flat and make sure she's OK. Now leave the rest to me."

Molly had sunk to the ground in the pain that her eardrum was experiencing from the whistle, and as it subsided she managed to accept John's hand up and stumble up the stairs to her flat. "What was that?" She asked, momentarily forgetting about the bug in her ear. "I don't know, but my name doesn't have Doctor in front of it for nothing." John said opening the door for her, "Sit and I'll get some tea. Then we will find out what's wrong with your ear; unless it's still ringing?" "No, it seems to be fine now, thanks John." Molly said smiling as John wandered into the kitchen.

John's clanging around in the kitchen was just the distraction that Jim needed as he stumbled through the window and landed in a crouched position on Molly's bedroom floor. Having successfully entered her window from the fire escape for the second time in the past few days, Jim sat waiting for the right moment to strike.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

John had returned to Molly's side with two steaming cups of tea, and after fumbling through his jacket, came out with a portable first aid kit. From it he produced a pen light and started to examine Molly's ears. The left one proved to be fine, but there was a small silver thing lodged in her right ear. John's hand dove into the first aid kit again and procured a set of tweezers. Coaching Molly to turn her head to the left, he quickly and easily removed the bug from her ear and the two of them sat staring at the silver object at the end of the tweezers' jaw.

"How in the world did you get that in your ear? In fact, what is it?" John wondered out loud.

Molly laughed nervously, "I don't really know…"

"Well it looks like a bug of some sort I think" John said moving towards a lamp and slowly turning the tweezers.

"A bug? What do you mean? Like a listening device?" Molly asked coming up behind him. _Better to play dumb I guess, but Jim has got to be livid right now._

In fact, Jim wasn't livid. Seb, however, was as he currently yelled about what a disaster this was, and how could the plan possibly work now that John knows something's up. "Goodness Seb, ever heard of plan B?" Jim hissed to quiet his screaming sidekick. "Plan B? And what would that be?" "Just leave it to me and everything will work out." Jim said as he rose to a standing position. He quickly crossed the bedroom and opened the door to the hallway. To his right was a straight shot to the living room, where two unsuspecting figures stood by a lamp with a silver object flashing in the light between them.

"How can you not remember where you would have been to have this placed in your ear? I mean people don't just waltz up to others and place a bug in their ear without them noticing!" John was sounding more and more like Sherlock as he tried to get Molly to solve the mystery of the bug.

"I, I don't know John! I just can't remember! As I said I was in Kent for the weekend and-"

"Come now dear, you know perfectly well you were with me and we certainly were not in Kent." The two figures whirled around to see Jim Moriarty sitting on the sofa with a smirk of content painted across his face.

**AN: Plot twist! What do you think will happen now? :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

The color slowly drained from John's face; after all he was staring at his greatest enemy and the one who drove his best friend to suicide a year earlier. "Moriarty," he spat as his face turned into the battlefield mask that was so familiar to him in Afghanistan.

"Woo, do I detect venom in that tone Doctor? Come, come! You must have some nicer words for your friend who has been gone for a year now!" Jim said in mocked offence.

John scoffed, "I couldn't find nicer words for you if I tried."

"Now now boys, let's settle down." Molly said stepping forward, hoping to keep the peace. The last thing she wanted was these men shooting at each other, and she also didn't know how much control Seb had over her and their current circumstance. For all she knew there was a bomb rigged to go off at a push of a button somewhere in her flat, better diffuse the situation while she could.

John, red faced, suddenly whirled on her, "You! You… this bug… it was his! IT WAS HIS! HAVE YOU KNOWN HE WAS ALIVE ALL THIS TIME? ARE YOU WORKING WITH HIM?" John was now seething, "HOW COULD YOU?! I CAN'T EVEN…I can't even begin to believe…Have you…Did you…He knows all about the dinner doesn't he? He knows… My god Molly, what have you done?" this last part was uttered at a whisper, revealing the red faced Doctor as totally defeated at this new turn of events.

Molly, similarly, was backed up against the wall as John had advanced threateningly towards her in his rage, his hand poised to strike. She began to relax however when she saw that he couldn't bring himself to do anything to her, as his hand slowly floated down to his side and his head bowed. Molly knew John wouldn't hurt her, but seeing the soldier emerge from the depths of him scared her. Suddenly Molly realized that she was seeing the world through John's eyes. The man who killed his best friend was relaxing on the sofa behind him, and his only remaining friend had betrayed him horribly. Molly saw the strong man that had emerged out of the rubble that John's life had been a year earlier; deteriorate in a matter of seconds. She could only stare in shock at the shadow of her friend.

Jim, seeing that John was defeated, began clapping sarcastically and rose from the sofa. "Bravo, not quite the soldier we used to be. Huh, old sport?" This statement received a horrified glance from Molly and no as-anticipated-violent outburst from John. He simply snapped to attention facing Molly, his back to Jim, his face stone. Consequently, he didn't see Jim reach into his pocket and bring out a gun with a glinting silencer attached to it. Jim advanced slowly, his eyes trained on the back of John's head. John felt the cold metal meet the back of his head and instantly knew what it was. _Well_, he thought, _time to meet up with Sherlock_. With one last glance at Molly, John Watson closed his eyes, his face melting into a perfect picture of peace as he waited for Moriarty to end it all.

With a quick wink at Molly, Jim pulled the trigger and John slumped to the floor.

A scream pierced the air as Molly knelt beside the fallen Doctor. _Not again, Please god not again! _ Her mind was blaring as she sat John's body up and held it against her. The tears began to flow as she held the fallen soldier, and unwillingly, her hand started to move towards the back of his head. However, it was then that she noticed that there was no bullet hole or blood, nothing to suggest that John had just been shot. Her head snapped up, "What did you do to him?" she demanded at the smiling Moriarty as he pocketed the dastardly weapon. "Stun guns are brilliant inventions, are they not? Oh, not to worry my dear! He's very much alive, just very much knocked out. Now, if you'd like to assist me in carrying him to the van, we shall bring him to Neverland." And with that, he turned and threw open a window facing the street and waved to Seb down below.

Seb turned off the idling van and took his headphones off with a huge grin. They had John Watson and Molly Hooper, now their game was ready to be played.


	10. Chapter 10

**Thank you so much for the reviews! Can't say how much they mean to me! Remember, don't own anything and enjoy the next chapter. :)**

**Chapter 10**

John slowly opened his eyes and found himself staring at the stars. His head throbbed as all of his senses slowly came back to him. Wherever he was, it smelled a bit like the ocean. _Since when does heaven smell like an ocean? _ He thought as the memory of what occurred at Molly's flat crawled through the fog of his mind back to him. Of course John had never been to heaven so how did he know what it was like, let alone smell. But this thought didn't really cross the doctor's mind as he stared at the stars.

Gradually John found the strength to stretch out one weary hand and press it down into a soft surface to pull his torso up into a sitting position. His eyes were immediately greeted with a beautifully detailed map of an island. Indians and Pirates and Mermaids appeared from every out cove and clearing on the island; the ocean surrounding it was a soft sea green that seemed to pull down from a vertical to meet him. John then realized that he must be in a boat, with seriously soft bedding in it, sailing towards this peaceful looking island. Never mind the fact that the island was vertical… maybe heaven was just strange like that.

_Perhaps I'm in purgatory?_ _Yes, the island is horizontal and I'm falling through sky to meet it. This must be some form of Purgatory. Purgatory is good. Soon I'll reach that island and see Sherlock, and Charlie, and Captain Lawson, and Sergeant Peterson, and Grandfather, and the General…_ John allowed himself to fall back into the soft bedding and let his boat carry him to the place where too many of his friends resided.

Half an hour later Molly let herself into the Neverland room with a tray of food for the poor Doctor who was currently asleep on the bed. Since she had accomplished her mission of getting John into Moriarty's hands, Jim had allowed her more freedom in his little hideout. There were still many places that she was forbidden to go to, but she could now wander around a total of nine rooms. _Ah well, at least one of them is a kitchen._ She thought as she set John's lunch on a table and sat down beside him on the bed.

John groaned and slowly opened his eyes. "Molly?" he grumbled as he tried to sit up. Molly reached out a hand to stop him from sitting upright, "Yes, it's me. Are you hungry? I have some soup for you, and tea." John groaned again, which Molly apparently took as a yes as she then proceeded to spoon soup down John's throat.

"You gave me quite a fright you know. You've been out for two days. I was sure that Moriarty had killed you. But I knew that the soldier in you would fight and that you wouldn't fade away. I just had this feeling, you know? Just like I have this feeling that Sherlock isn't quite dead yet." John sputtered through his soup and Molly shushed him. "Just let me finish, OK? I think your right about Jim is using us to lour Sherlock out of hiding, it's obvious really considering how we're now both trapped in his hideout. Only I don't know how he'll accomplish getting Sherlock to come out from where ever he is." John pushed up against Molly's hand and was now sitting fully upright, albeit with soup dripping down his front. "I knew it." He whispered to no one in particular.

He then made eye contact with Molly, fixing her with an icy stare that harked back to the soldier in him. "I'm not dead?" he asked. Molly shook her head, "No John, Moriarty didn't shoot you, well he did. You see he… tranquilized you for about two days." John's eyes narrowed a bit, "Tranquilized." He repeated. He then sighed, accepting the fact that he was still among the living, his stare softening, "Ok, so where are we exactly?"

"Moriarty's hideout, have no idea where exactly it is. We came here in a van with no windows, and you know Moriarty has a knack for finding old abandoned places, so I'm guessing we're in one of those. This room is called Neverland and we have free reign of nine rooms. Everywhere else is off limits."

"This room is called Neverland? Well now he's just mocking me." John said as he tried to get up from the bed, his legs immediately collapsing beneath him. Molly rolled her eyes, "John, you should know that one under the influence of enough drugs to keep them knocked out for two days, cannot just stand up and start angrily pacing the room. Here, you rest and I'll go see if I can find something to entertain you. Then I'll try and see if I can find out what Jim's next move is." John groaned in agreement and settled back down into the bed, wondering what the next move was, who would take it, and when the room would stop spinning.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

Peter S. Harrison stepped out of a cab in front of a very important looking building in London. He then walked through some very important looking doors, swiped his card through the security gates and squeezed his tall figure onto an elevator with ten other equally important looking people. They all muttered a business like good morning and adjusted their black suit jackets and ties nervously. Being sociable was obviously not their strong point. On the twenty-first floor Peter Harrison got out and proceeded through the tangle of cubicles to an important looking wooden door with **_Peter Harrison, Attorney at Law_** painted across it in big, gold-leaf lettering. Peter entered and set his briefcase down in the small space that was reserved for it beside his desk.

He sat down in his posh and important looking swivel chair and switched on his computer. As he waited for it to boot up he ran his hands through his thick dark brown, almost ginger in the right light, curls; his icy blue eyes steadily following the green bar moving across the screen. When his desk top finally loaded he was met with a comforting sight, a picture greeted his tired eyes of himself and two other people at a Christmas party. The three of them were laughing, each with a glass of Champaign in their hand. He was in the middle, right hand holding his glass, left hand in the pocket of his suit pants. To his right was a woman in a black dress, her mousy brown hair done up in a flattering way; drink in left hand, right hand on Peter's arm. To Peter's left was a shorter gentleman with a hideous black and red reindeer sweater on. His right hand raised in toast, his face frozen in a joyous, laughing smile.

Peter sighed; he missed that life, that wonderful life that he had a year ago. God has it really been a year? He wondered how the woman to his right was; did she still smile and wear that gorgeous black dress to parties? Did she still enjoy working with stuffy inspectors as they carted in bodies to her morgue? And the gentleman to his left, oh god… Peter couldn't bear to think of him, he couldn't even bring himself to wonder how his dear friend was doing. He knew that he was still living in the same flat, and that somehow he managed to get through every day. _Oh when will you forget me?_ Peter thought with a longing look at his friend's faces on the desktop background. With a sigh, Peter loosened his tie and opened the internet that connected automatically to his e-mail.

**UnknownSender** Subject: IOU- M Sent 05:40am

Peter recoiled at this first email. That subject line, he hadn't seen that message since… could it be? Peter shook his head. No, he was Peter Harrison, no longer that man from the Christmas party. He was just starting to establish his career as a lawyer. He was Peter Harrison; no one had any debts that they had yet to pay to him. He had no IOUs from a person named M. His face hardened as he hovered the mouse over the delete button, he didn't need some useless spam message jamming up his inbox. But his mind was screaming, the detective in him coming back out, as it sometimes did, it could be something. Against his better judgment, Peter clicked the message open.

**_Mr. Harrison,_**

**_It has come to our attention that we owe you a little game. We apologize that it has taken us some time to repay you, but after a year we have finally deemed our game ready to be played._**

**_Don't deny us of the pleasure of seeing you play with us Mr. Harrison! Although, how could you? An important, fine standing man like you would never go back on his word and refuse us in our offer of a game. We even spent a year in creating it especially for you! Or will you refuse because you have finally grown up and have forgotten how to play? If this is the case, let us take this moment to remind you how to play._**

**_At 5:30 pm exactly, you will exit your office, using the excuse of a doctor's appointment. There will be a car waiting for you, one very similar to the ones that your dear brother used to send 'round to you and your flatmate. Get in and do not ask any questions, for you will not get any answers. The car will take you to where you need to be and at that point our game will begin. You will have a choice then; will you like to meet the doctor, or the lab assistant? No need to answer now, but a choice must be made when you arrive at aforementioned point. More information will then be presented based on your choice._**

**_We look forward to your decision Mr. Harrison._**

**_Sincerely,_**

**_M_**

Peter blinked and read the message again and again. _Moriarty, _the word flashed across his mind like fire. He shook his head, this can't be serious… this isn't happening, it must be a joke. That's it, it must be hate mail! Some rival attorney that got burned in a recent case thought it would be funny to make him squirm. Peter couldn't think of which one it could be, there had been so many cases that he had won recently. He hit the print button on the e-mail, the IT department and police could certainly track this bastard down. The printer buzzed as the paper spat out of the machine.

_**Nice try Mr. Harrison, but we require the services of SH.**_

Peter, sputtering incoherently, printed out another copy of the email, willing the machine to behave this time.

**We require the services of SH**

Crumpling the paper Peter tried again, and again and again the same message, "_We require the services of SH"_ continued to show. Cursing Peter slumped into his important looking swivel chair, feeling less than important and utterly defeated.

After a few minutes, he begrudgingly hit a red button on his phone that resided on one corner of his desk. "Yes Mr. Harrison?" a voice replied from the phone. "Susan? Remind me that I have a Doctor's appointment at 6, so I must leave at 5:30 today." "Yes Mr. Harrison, will do. Will that be all sir?" "A very strong cup of coffee, black, would be greatly appreciated. Thank you." _God knows I'll need it,_ Peter thought as he disconnected from his secretary.

Five minutes later Susan walked through Peter's door with a very strong cup of coffee, black. Peter Harrison thanked her, grasped the standard office white mug firmly in his hand and took a long drink. He took the mug away from his lips and looked pensively into the depths of his coffee. Peter swirled the liquid aimlessly around the mug as he turned in his chair and looked out of the floor to ceiling windows. He got up and began pacing the room, his mind swirling as fast as the tornado of caffeine in his mug. Could he go back to that life as easily as he left it? There were so many questions and problems to be faced, and it would be easy to refuse, but could he? Could he run? Could he refuse?

Finally Peter turned, paced back to his desk, and took another long swig of his black coffee. Sherlock Holmes put the mug down on Peter S. Harrison's desk with a satisfying thud, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. _How can I refuse indeed? The game is on once again. And this time, I am going to win._


	12. Chapter 12

**AN: Hi all! Guess what I found! Peter's desktop! Go to my profile for a link to it.**

Chapter 12

Susan was busily typing away on her computer when a bell went off and a window popped into the middle of her screen. **Harrison Dr Appt. 5:30**

"Oh that's right" she said as she hit a button on her phone. "Mr. Harrison? Just a reminder that you need to leave in a few minutes for your doctor's appointment, don't want to be late for that." The phone sighed at her as Harrison mumbled "Thank you" and disconnected.

Susan was worried; Mr. Harrison hadn't been acting like himself at all today. He had denied all calls, except for three, that lasted in total, five minutes; he had refused to take a lunch break and continuously asked for his coffee black, when in the year that Susan had known her boss he had always taken it with sugar and a bit of cream. She hoped he was alright; in fact she was sure he would be fine as she turned back to her important looking computer and resumed her rapid typing.

The Mr. Harrison in question was quite all right. He had wandered into the dark recesses of his mind cottage and unlocked a door that hadn't seen light in a year. Inside resided a bedraggled looking man whose eyes immediately snapped into contact with Peter's. Peter walked in and picked his way among the years worth of dust that had accumulated on the floor of the small room, and reached his hand down to this man with a look of terror and peace. The man smiled and took Peter's hand and with a nod and a slight smile from both men, the door closed on Peter S. Harrison. The bedraggled man ran his hands through his curly hair and opened another door to his mind palace. Sherlock Holmes was once again free, and therefore extremely bored and uninterested in whatever Peter's life had been.

He was intrigued by three phone calls for Peter, which proved to be nothing of interest after all. He jumped when the phone buzzed again and Peter's secretary reminded him of the reason why he had returned from the dead. Slowly, he rose from his chair and walked to the door, then with a small laugh, Sherlock turned and picked up Peter's briefcase; after all, until he left the building he was still Peter Harrison.

Sherlock, sorry Peter, walked through the maze of cubicles, descended twenty-one floors and exited the important looking doors onto the busy streets of London. Immediately he saw the black town car that the email had told him about and a chauffeur holding a neatly written sign bearing**_ Peter Harrison_** in big, black letters. Sherlock walked up to the man and asked if he was his ride to his doctor's appointment, which received a smirk from the chauffeur as he opened the back passenger for Mr. Harrison, I mean Holmes. Sliding inside, Sherlock wasn't necessarily surprised at the fact that he couldn't see out of the windows, but he wasn't expecting it. _This is going to be an adventure. _He thought as the car started and pulled into the traffic of London.

As soon as the car pulled away from the sidewalk, Sherlock's mind whirred into action. Left onto Fleet, the right onto Main, then straight through to the belt way…. His uncanny sense of direction served him well, except for the fact that his enemy knew this and purposely sent his car on the most in-efficient way to arrive at their final destination. When the car finally stopped Sherlock was a bit confused. They had driven for a total of 57 minutes and 40 seconds, however the way that they went and where Sherlock thought they ended up should have only taken them 30 minutes from the office. In short, Sherlock didn't know if they were Essex, or Chelmsford, for all he knew they could still be in London! He closed his eyes, being locked away for a year was taking its toll; he wasn't as sharp as he used to be, and he soon realized that his driver knew this.

Sherlock's thoughts were interrupted by a voice with a heavily German accent. "So Mr. Holmes, Zee doctor or zee lab assistant? Which way shall ve go?" Sherlock opened his eyes and stared at the back of the Chauffer's head and drawing in a breath said "Well, considering I was told I had an appointment with a doctor, I shall like to see them first." "Very good Mr. Holmes." The chauffer replied as he turned the car to a sharp left.

A series of bells went off in Sebastian's office as well as Jim's that caused both men to laugh with glee. "So, the Detective has chosen the Doctor, very well then. Would you like to handle it Jim?" Seb's voice asked through the intercom in Jim's office. "Oh with pleasure" Jim replied and set off down the hall to the Neverland room.


	13. Chapter 13- The Game Begins

Chapter 13

Jim and Sebastian had been working for months trying to find Sherlock, who had changed his name to Peter Harrison and had become a lawyer for whatever reason. It had only been in the past weeks however that they had discovered how to hack into his firm's email to send him an untraceable email. They knew that they couldn't just send any email to Mr. Harrison, they had to send him an offer that he couldn't refuse; something that would be so powerful that it would change this everyday lawyer into the detective that he formerly was. So Sherlock's account was hacked, Molly was gotten and employed, John was gotten and imprisoned, the email was finalized and sent, and now their game was ready to played.

Jim was still smiling with glee as he knocked on the door to Neverland and left himself in. He was instantly met with an angry glare from John, who was now sitting on the bed reading a book that Molly found; and an annoyed look from Molly that hinted at her earlier encounter with a locked door and Moriarty yelling at her to go away and he'll deal with her later and he didn't care that she and John were in the dark about what was going on, "for you see dear, that's the _point_." Both looks intensified when they saw Jim's overjoyed state.

"Ms. Hooper, can I have a word outside please?" Jim asked as polite as can be. Throwing John a confused look, Molly nodded and followed Jim out into the hall. Jim closed the door to Neverland and asked Molly to follow him down the maze of white hallways that comprised his hideout. Laughing a bit at this comment, Molly agreed and proceeded to follow Jim to Sebastian's office. Seb was, as usual, stuffed behind his many computer monitors and raised his hand in a casual wave when the two walked in.

"Have a seat won't you dear?" Jim asked gesturing to a chair as he walked around Seb's desk to look over his shoulder at the monitors. Molly sat and suddenly was overcome with the feeling that she was now being thrown roughly into the light of Moriarty's plan. _Well, it's what you had asked for wasn't it? You asked to not be left in the dark as to what was happening. Well now you're regretting it aren't you…. Better ask. _ "Um, sorry to interrupt whatever it is you're doing, but care to fill me in as to what's happening? And why those monitors are so interesting?"

Jim's head snapped up with his grin still on it, "Well my dear, we asked you to help us catch a kraken, and the kraken is coming." With that he spun a monitor around so that Molly could see it.

On it was security footage of a black car entering into a tunnel. Molly didn't recognize the drive, or the car, but she had a feeling that she shouldn't have left John and that she should have stayed in the dark. She watched as the car drove on and eventually stopped in front of a warehouse door. The driver turned the car off and got out, he then opened the back passenger door and another figure emerged. Molly couldn't see the second figure's face, since they had their back to the camera, but then the figure popped his collar of his coat up and walked with a gait that Molly had seen a thousand times before. Molly leaned forward in her chair, "Sherlock?" she said with wonder at the man on the screen.

"Oh you're good!" Jim suddenly exclaimed causing Molly to jump, "Perhaps you should be a detective! You can't even see his face and yet you _know._ Amazing, isn't it Seb?" Sebastian nodded slightly as he hit a few buttons on his key board. On the screen the door opened and Sherlock nodded to the driver of the car and walked through. With a few more taps, Seb closed the door behind Sherlock. "Shall we begin boss?" he asked looking at Jim. "Oh yes lets! And could you make Molly's monitor follow the match? She asked not to be in the dark after all." Seb nodded, tapped a few more buttons and Sherlock's face appeared on Molly's screen as he stood in one of the many white hallways.

**AN: And they're off! What do you think happens next?**


	14. Chapter 14

**Hello! Yes I'm alive and the story continues! I don't own Sherlock, or the 'riddle'. In reality its a song from the musical version of Peter Pan... well enjoy! :)**

**Chapter 14**

Sherlock jumped as the door slammed shut behind him and he was met with nothing but a blindingly white hallway in front of him, this was certainly no ordinary warehouse. Looking around he could see no possible way of movement but forward. _Well, onward._ He thought, however just as he was about to move a booming voice filled the hall.

GREATINGS MR. HARRISON, OR DO WE HAVE THE PLEASURE OF MR HOLMES'S PRESENCE? "You have the pleasure of Sherlock Holmes's presence", he coolly replied to the voice that was obviously from some computer. WELL THEN, GREATINGS MR. HOLMES. ARE YOU READY TO PLAY OUR GAME? Sherlock nodded, "Hit me with your best shot. Where is this doctor that you've sent me to see?" AH EAGER ARE WE? WELL IT'S VERY SIMPLE. PROCEED DOWN THE HALLWAY. _That's it? _"Ok then, thank you." Sherlock said and proceeded down the hall.

Jim was almost on the floor laughing so hard. "Well Seb, at this point we might have to go to plan B if he's going to cooperate so nicely! And how polite he is! My god what did office life do to him?" Seb, who was laughing as well, nodded and gasping for air, asked if they should throw the riddle at him. Jim, wiping tears from his eyes nodded and hit another button on Seb's computer. "Should go off in 30 minutes then" Jim said settling down into a chair, still holding his sides.

Sherlock had been walking for sometime down this hallway and yet, it never seemed to end! What was up with this place? HELLO AGAIN MR. HOLMES."Hello again" Sherlock said stopping in his tracks, waiting for the voice to tell him what to do. I HAVE A RIDDLE FOR YOU MR. HOLMES, WOULD YOU LIKE TO HEAR IT? IT MIGHT BE MORE USEFULL THAN YOU JUST WANDERING DOWN THIS HALLWAY. FOR IF YOU DO THAT, YOU'RE NOT GOING TO GET VERY FAR. _No sh!t. _"Alright, let's have it then." Sherlock replied.

"I have a place where dreams are born,  
And time is never planned.  
It's not on any chart,  
You must find it with your heart.  
Never Never Land.

It might be miles beyond the moon,  
Or right there where you stand.  
Just keep an open mind,  
And then suddenly you'll find  
Never Never Land.

You'll have a treasure if you stay there,  
More precious far than gold.  
For once you have found your way there,  
You can never, never grow old."

Silence filled the hall once the computer was done talking. Sherlock stood there, his mind whirring and analyzing each word of the riddle, playing it over and over again. WELL MR. HOLMES, The voice interrupted, YOU NOW HAVE ALL YOU NEED FOR NOW, BEST OF LUCK. "Yeah, thanks." Sherlock mumbled, lost in his thoughts.

_Alright, mind palace, here we go._ Sherlock thought as words started to form and flash in his psyche._ 'I have a place where dreams are born'… bedroom_… '_And time is never planned'… no time? Impossible… well, no clocks, no time… 'it's not on any chart'.. off the map, underground… 'You must find it in your heart'…. Yeah ok, rubbish…. 'Never never land'…. Neverland, Peter and Wendy by J.M. Barrie, Disney film, 1953… 'It might be miles beyond the moon'… second star to the right…. 'Or right where you stand'… here? Huh…. 'just keep an open mind'… ok…. 'And suddenly you'll find never, never land. You'll have a treasure if you stay there, more precious far than gold.' What treasure? 'For once you have found your way there, you can never, never grow old.' Never grow old… Fountain of youth? Children? Who knows…._

**Bedroom, no clocks, underground, Peter Pan, Right here, treasure and eternal youth.**The words flashed up as Sherlock realized that he was in the right place to find whatever this twisted voice wanted him to find… but it was just a white hall….. But, perhaps it wasn't. Stretching out his hands, Sherlock turned to his left and walked forward hitting a wall. Grunting, he turned to his right and walked forward, except this time the wall _gave way._ Well it seemed to anyway, but that's not important. What's important is that Sherlock had found another hall way which he then headed down with a feeling of triumph.


	15. Chapter 15- An explanation

Chapter 15- an explanation

Sherlock was tired of running. What had started out as a feeling of triumph turned into annoyance as he continued down the white hall, without finding a door, or turn; despite the fact that he was constantly running his hands along either side of him to see if there were anymore tricky hidden halls... Slowing to a walk he was about to protest to the computer when he saw the faint outline of a door in the wall to his left. There was no handle to it, but there was definitely an indentation in the wall the size of a door. Moving forward, he pressed his hands against it and the panel gave way, swing inward.

It took a bit for Sherlock's eyes to adjust to the darkness that he found inside, but it gave him the perfect opportunity to focus in on the one source of light in the room. This light came from a computer screen, obviously a laptop from the height of the screen versus the silhouette of the person sitting at it. The silhouette kept muttering to them self as their fingers flew across the keys, much to Sherlock's annoyance; he could tell that they were continuously hitting backspace as they furiously typed.

_Careless person, _he thought, _why don't people learn to type with efficiency anymore? If they typed with accuracy then they wouldn't be hitting the delete key after every letter…._ Sherlock simply stood there in the doorway, listening to the clacking of the keys and the mutterings of the silhouette, wondering if this was supposed to be his "doctor", when suddenly he heard his name.

"_Sherlock realized with a shock that the silhouette was… talking about him. Clearing his throat he ventured a question…" _

"Did you just say my name? What… how did you know that I was about to ask a question? Who are you?" he stammered, moving forward.

The shadow of the person at the computer smirked, that is it would, if shadows could smirk. How silly Sherlock was being.

"Hey, I'm not being silly! Who are you?" Sherlock demanded again as he was now close enough to the silhouetted figure to read the screen over their shoulder.

Why my dear Sherlock, I am the author. And this is the first time in over a month that I've touched your story. Sorry, a thing called school kind of got in the way…. Hence why you've been running down the same hall for _ages_ with no result; for I haven't made you find any! Now I'm not Moriarty, at the moment he's frozen in his office watching you run down the same hall for hours… huh kind of forgotten about him, I was so focused on you and your destination…. Now Mr. Holmes, if you would like to continue, go to your right and stick out your hands, otherwise you'll have a rather unpleasant landing. Good bye.

With that, Sherlock felt his body being launched forward and, sticking his hands out, landed with a thud on soft, sea green carpeting.

A shatter of glass followed his entrance as John Watson witnessed Sherlock Holmes appear out of nowhere on the floor next to him, causing him to drop his tea cup. "My God!"

Sherlock slowly lifted his head, "John?" Impossible! Perhaps he was being controlled by some figure in front of a computer….


End file.
